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Marse 
Covington 


A PLAY IN ONE ACT 


By 
GEORGE ADE 
| 
Copyright, 1923, by George Ade 

All Rights Reserved 

Price Fifty Cents 
New YORK LONDON 

SAMUEL FRENCH SAMUEL FRENCH, LT». 

PUBLISHER 26 SOUTHAMPTON STREET 


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OF THE 
NiVERSITY OF ILLING! 


MARSE COVINGTON 


A ELA INGON ES AGT 


BY 
GEORGE ADE 


CoPpyRIGHT, 1923, By GEorGE ADE 


New York Lonpon 
SAMUEL FRENCH SAMUEL FRENCH, Lr. 
PUBLISHER 26 SoUTHAMPTON STREET 


28-30 West 38TH STREET STRAND 


All Rights Reserved 


“MARSE COVINGTON” is fully protected by copyright, 
and all rights reserved. 


Permission to act, read publicly, or to make any use of 
it must be obtained from Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th 
Street, New York. 


It may be presented by amateurs upon payment of a 
royalty of Five Dollars for each performance, payable to 
Samuel French one week before the date when the play is 
given. 


Professional rates quoted on application. | 


Whenever the play is produced the following notice must 
appear on all programs, printing and advertising for the 


play: “Produced by special arrangement with Samuel 
French of New York.” 


Pr, 


CAST) (OF) CHARACTERS 


CAPTAIN CovincTon B. HAuuipay, a remnant of the 
old aristocracy. 

Eppiz BANTREE, proprietor of the place. 

Uncie DAN, a slavery-days negro. 

ARTHUR BIRD, a regular. 

JAmeEs H. Rotter, a regular. 


SCENE: At the steel door of a gambling house. 


Time: The present. 


SUGGESTIONS REGARDING CHARACTERS 


CAPTAIN HALuipay is middle-aged, of military bear- 
ing; may speak with a slight accent, but do not 
emphasize. He is as proud as Lucifer, digni- 
fied, a representative of the old-time Southern 
chivalry. He wears a frock coat, clean but very 
much worn, a wide slouch hat and may carry a 
stick. Suggest the mustache and imperial. He 
ts poverty-stricken to the point of starvation. 

BANTREE is a flashy, loud and vulgar sport of the 
bull-neck variety. He wears evening clothes, 
shori coat with a single diamond in the shirt. 

UNcLE DAN 1s a well-trained and elderly negro serv- 
ant; he wears a “dress suit’ and may have white 
gloves. He is a type of the old-time Southern 
house servant, obsequious, polite, deferential. 

BirD 1s a young swell in evening clothes, coat off, 
has been drinking, hair mussed, etc. Good chance 
for character bt. 

ROLLER is a straight part. Clean-looking young fel- 
low in evening clothes. 


MARSE COVINGTON 


The set represents an anteroom or hallway in a 
gambling house. There need be little furniture 
other than a hatrack against the wall upstage at 
R. of c. At L. of C., against the wall, a tele- 
phone. At v. there is a doorway, which is sup- 
posed to lead to the street. It is heavily barred 
and has a heavy chain across it so that two or 
three locks must be unfastened before the door 
is opened. In the middle of the door is a peek- 
hole with a wooden slide so that any one inside 
may look out and see who is demanding admit- 
tance. At R. is an open doorway which is sup- 
posed to lead into the gambling room. Along- 
side this doorway a sideboard wnih decanters, 
glasses, cigars, etc. 

At the rise of the curtain BANTREE ts discovered at 
the telephone. He has the receiver at his ear 
and is talking into the ’phone. 


BANTREE. (In the ’phone) No. (Pause.) No. 
that’s all a bluff. They haven’t bothered us for two 
weeks. We’re running along just the same as usual. 


(Birp enters from R., excited.) 


Brrp. Eddie, I want to see you a minute. 

BANTREE. I'll be right with you, my boy. (Into 
*bhone) All right, Charley. (Pause, during which 
Birp pours out drink and gulps it down. BANTREE 


5 


6 MARSE COVINGTON 


once more into “phone) Yes—sure thing—send ’em 
up. 


(Brrp plunges hands into trousers’ pockets and feels 
a bill m one of them. Face expresses surprise. 
He pulls out bill and looks at it and then exits 
R. hurriedly. ) 


BANTREE, (Resumes talk into’phone) Say, Char- 
ley, tell *em to leave the taxi at the corner—don’t 
like to have too many drivin’ up. I’m right in be- 
tween a branch of the Y. M. C. A. and a private 
residence, and I don’t want ’em to begin hollerin’. 
(Pause.) How’s that? Oh, they can find the place 
—number seventy-two—the green light. Tell ’em to 
ask the policeman—he’s all right—nice, reliable fel- 
low. (Brrp re-enters R., having lost his bill.) Two 
raps and then a single rap—that’s right. 

Brrp. Say, Eddie, the man that built that wheel 
forgot to put on any seventeen. Of all the rotten 
luck! (May take another drink tf repetition does 
not seem to be overdoing bus. Or he may grab a 
cigar out of the box and put it in his mouth for a 
dry smoke.) 

BANTREE. (Turning from the phone) Well, you 
can’t ketch ’em every time. (Then into ’phone) If 
I hear anything from Latonia I’ll let you know. So 
long. (Hangs up receiver and turns to Birp, who 
1S pecsng up and down.) Ain’t they rollin’ right for 
your 

Brrp. IJ am certainly trimmed proper, but—(zuith 
determination)—I’m goin’ to stick till these num- 
bers come out. They’ve got to come sometime. 

BANTREE. Oh, they all come out—sooner or later. 

Birp. I may feed in a few markers, but I guess 
you know me. 

BANTREE. Sure, your name is—ah—— (Hest- 
tating.) 


MARSE COVINGTON 7 


Birp. You know—Bird, of Pittsburgh. 

BANTREE. (Chuckling) Ought to remember that, 
eh? All the birds come from Pittsburgh. 
 Birv. (Baffled and impatient) Nix—I didn’t 
come here to be kidded—I want a thousand dollars’ 
worth of yellows—I’m goin’ to put that wheel out of 
business. 

BANTREE. (Affably) Well, I guess—ah 
(Hesitating.) 

Birp. (Jrritated at his hesitancy) A thousand 
isn’t a bean to me—I can buy and sell your joint. 

BanTreE. No offence, my boy. (Patting him on 
the shoulder.) Gee, but you’re excitable! Go right 
in and draw what you need. I’ll be with you ina 
seen (Leading him over x.) Got to call up my 
wife. 

Brrp. (As he exits x.) If seventeen ever comes 
—I’ll own this place. 





(BANTREE hurries to ’phone and takes down re- 
cerver—talks hurriedly.) 


BANTREE. Give me 440—Tenderloin—and hurry 
up, sister. (Pause.) All right, you needn’t be my 
sister, but hurry just the same. (Pause.) Hello, 
is this the Empire Hotel? Give me the office. 
Hello, is this the office? Is Tom there? Oh, this 
is Tom? Say, Tom, this is Eddie Bantree—I’m up 
here at the factory—How about young Bird, of 
Pittsburgh? (Pause.) I know he’s got it, but would 
he welch if we tapped him for a bundle? (Pause.) 
Huh? (Pause. A rapping is heard at the door— 
two raps, pause, and then another. BANTREE con- 
tinues into ’phone) Yes, he’s playing his head off. 
(Pause, during which rapping is repeated.) Much 
obliged—I guess I’ll take a chance on him. (Hangs 
up the receiver and goes to the door at L., pushes 
back slide and looks through.) Oh! (In tone of 


8 MARSE COVINGTON 


annoyance.) Nothin’ doin’ here. Closed up. (Pause, 
during which man outside is supposed to say some- 
thing.) 1 tell you there’s nothin’ doin’. Good night. 
(Pushes back slide angrily and turns.) That fel- 
low’s got a nerve to come around here! (On this 
line UNCLE Dawn enters through door at R.) Say, 
Dan, while I think of it, you’ve been lettin’ a dead 
one in here nearly every night. I’ve spoken to you 
about it two or three times. Now, never again. He 
was here just now and IJ turned him down. It’s 
this Halliday. 


(UncLe Dan stops suddenly and almost drops the 
coat which he is carrying, and which he has 
brought out to put on the rack.) 


Dan. Halliday? 

BANTREE. Yes, Halliday. 

Dan. Captain Covington B. Halliday, of Essex 
Co’t House? 

BANTREE. .Of the Mills Hotel, ’d say. He’s get- 
ting to be a pest around here. 

Dan. Why, Misteh Bantree! Cap’n Halliday— 
(Stops.) 

BANTREE. Well, what about him? He comes in 
here and never plays a cent. Puts on as much dog 
as if he owned the place, and two or three times he’s 
touched some of the regulars, and they don’t like it. 
I’m runnin’ this place for gentlemen. 

Dan. Cap’n Halliday, suh, is f’om one of the 
fust families of Virginia. I was bo’n on his fatheh’s 
plantation. 

BANTREE. He may have been good forty years 
ago, but now he’s down and out and I won’t have 
him around here. If he comes around again—throw 
him out. 

Dan. Throw Marse Covington—out? I—I 
wouldn’ dath to. 


MARSE COVINGTON 9 


BANTREE, What’s that? You're takin’ orders 
from me—ain’t you? 

Dan. (Meekly) Yes, suh. 

BANTREE. Why, he ain’t had enough money for 
a month to buy his rolls and coffee. He belongs in 
that line of hand-outs down at Fleischman’s Bakery. 
If I find him in here again—you go! 

Dan. Yes, suh. 

BANTREE. I guess you know when you’ve got a 
soft thing. You make more money here in a week 
than you ever saw in a month before. You want to 
keep them boys of yours in school, don’t you? 

Dan. Yes, suh, I was hopin’ to. 

BANTREE. Goin’ to make every one of ’em a 
Booker Washington, eh? Well, they’ll turn out to 
be crap-shooters, the same as the balance. 

Router. (Enters r. with wad of bills which he 
1s folding up to put into his pocket) Talk about your 
easy money—talk about taking stick-candy away 
from an infant! This is the easiest thing I’ve struck 
in a long time! 

BANTREE. (Trying to appear amiable) What you 
been doin’, Jimmy—puttin’ a crimp in us? 

Rotter. That wild man from Pittsburgh shov- 
eled it in at one end and I took part of it out at the 
other. He spreads ’em so thick you can’t see the 
lay-out ! 


(Dan behind, respectfully.) 


BANTREE. Who do you think was here just now? 
Your old friend, the Captain. 

Rotter. (Who may fill in with business of cigar 
or cigarette) JI don’t know any of the police. 

BaNTREE. I don’t mean the precinct captain—he 
couldn’t find this place! I mean your htgh-toned 
friend—Captain Halliday. 

Rotter. Oh! You mean Captain Covington B. 


10 MARSE COVINGTON 


Halliday—(adopting pompous tone). Do you know, 
I feel sorry for him. My father knew him before 
the war. He was a great swell in those days. Used 
to come up here and burn the town. 

BANTREE. Well, he is now the president of the 
Down and Out Club. I thought I’d put you on to 
him in case he wanted to ring in some time. He 
hasn’t got a sou markee and I’d rather not have 
him around here. ; 

Rotter. (Quietly amused) Oh, I see—you are 
looking for producers. 

BANTREE. I’m not looking for has-beens. 

Rotter. I know—but, Eddie, you must remem- 
ber that the man who has been somebody or some- 
thing hates to let go and sink out of sight. Did you 
ever see a busted horseman who didn’t hang around 
race-tracks? Go down to the Stock Exchange and 
see the has-been brokers standing out there on the 
curb—waiting—hoping—for what? I don’t know. 
(DAN, at sign, begins to assist him with coat.) A 
large city is no place for a has-beeen, and yet they 
seem to stick. 

BANTREE. Have a drink before you go? 

Rotter. No, thanks—I’ve got to hurry and meet 
some friends. They’ve been toa show. We're going 
out to supper. 

BANTREE. Well, I guess you’ll have enough to 
pay the check! (Both laugh. Rotter may look at 
roll again before putting it in side pocket of coat.) 
Drop in again. 

Rotter. I probably will—(Handing Dan a bill) 
—if I don’t forget the number. 

Dan. Thank you, suh! Thank you very much, 
Mr. Roller! Thank you, suh! (Gotng over and re- 
leasing chain and bolts on door.) 

Rotter. Good-night, Eddie. 

BANTREE. Good-night, Mr. Roller. 

Dan. Call again, suh. 


MARSE COVINGTON II 


(RoiLER exits. DAN is putting up chain and bars 
again. ) 


BANTREE. You're makin’ more money around 
this joint than J am. 

Biro. (Enters from rR. He is excited. His hair 
is rumpled.) Say, Eddie, are you a lot of pikers 
around here? 

BANTREE. I don’t know—mebbe. What’s the mat- 
ter? 

Birp. Every time I order a thousand-dollar stack 
that lobster with the red hair has a hemorrhage. 
Can’t I go as far as I like? (To sideboard for a 
drink.) 

BANTREE. You know it—we’ll have the ceiling 
taken out! 

Birp. I’m goin’ to play my system—my way— 
even if it takes ten thousand at a crack—and if that 
fellow looks hard at me again I’m goin’ to call him, 
and call him hard! 

BANTREE. I'll go in with you—(Taking him by 
the arm.) My boy, you can have all the chips in the 
world! (They start R.) 

Brrp. I’ve played here before and I won’t stand 
for anybody gettin’ flossy with me! 

BANTREE. (As they extt Rr.) I'l speak to that 
boy. 


(DAN crosses over and stands near doorway at R., 
looking out into the gambling room.) 


Dan. No, suh, I ain’t makin’ all the money ’at’s 
made heah. Theah he goes again! Look at all of 
them chips! (Chuckles.) That’s the on’y way he 
can get ’’em is to buy ’’em! System! System! I’ve 
seen ’em come and I’ve seen ’em go, and the wheel 
keeps tuhnin’ round just the same! (Rapping 1s 
heard at door. Two, pause, then another. Dan 


12 MARSE COVINGTON 


crosses, chuckling to himself.) Heah comes anotheh 
system. (He opens slide and looks out, then closes 
slide hastily.) Marse Covington. (The rapping ts 
repeated. DAN opens the slide without showing his 
face at it.) No game heah, suh. 

Hatiipay. (Outside) Open that door, you black 
rascal! (DAN hesitates.) Open that door! (Dan 
begins sliding bolts—lowers the chain. As soon as 
he begins to cautiously open the door, HALLIDAY 
pushes it open imperiously and stalks into the room.) 

Dan. Why, Marse Covington—it’s you! It was 
so dahk outside I couldn’ hardly 

Haruipay. (Interrupting) Where is the person 
who conducts this establishment? He shall answer 
to me! I come here not to soil my hands with the 
sordid tools of his nefarious trade, but to meet a 
friend—with whom I am interested in certain large 
enterprises. J am turned away—told that the place 
is closed. As I start to go—an acquaintance comes 
from the house—informs me that the place is not 
closed! Why has this insult been put upon me— 
why? (More loudly.) 

Dan. Hsh-h-h! Please, Marse Covington—not 
so loud! 

Hatruipay. Not so loud! Why not? How dare 
you correct my manner of speech? Are you getting 
to be one of these damned Northern niggers? 

Dan. No, Marse Covington. I never could fall 
as low as that. I work in a clubhouse, but: 

Hariipay. Clubhouse—bah! This fellow is a 
clod, a vulgarian! He waved me airily away from 
his vile resort—I, a Halliday—I (He starts to 
ha im front of DAN and totters. DAN supports 

im. 

Dan. Marse Covington—you—you ain’t well! 

Hatiipay. (Pulling himself together) How dare 
you lay your hands on me? Here, I—I want you 
to take my card to this fellow (Feeling in his 














MARSE COVINGTON 13 


pocket.) Tell him I am waiting here for him— 
(Stil feeling for card)—that he can either apolo- 
gize or I’ll cane him as I would a hound in the streets. 
Unfortunately, I have no card with me. You may 
announce me—Captain Covington B. Halliday. 

Dan. Yes, suh, I Please, Marse Covington, 
I’d like to say something. 

Hatuipay. (Very much on his dignity) When I 
give an order—that is final. 

Dan. (Persisiently) I must tell you something, 
Marse Covington. This Mistah Bantree ’at owns 
this place is just cheap, common white-trash. He 
nevah had no family—no mannehs—no nothin’—just 
a low-down Yankee gambleh. 

Hatitmay. (Impressed) A gambler must not in- 
sult a Halliday. 

Dan. But, Marse Covington—you can’t loweh 
yourself to take hold of such a toad—not even with 
yo’ gloves on. (HALLIDAY may wear a pair of 
shabby gloves.) Don’t you ’membah what the old 
General used to say, “If the little dogs bahk at yo’ 
heels, don’t notice ’em.” 

Haruipay. (Hesitating) I am not accustomed 
to receive suggestions from servants, but I thank 
you, Dan, for what you have told me concerning this 
—this 

Dan. Bantree, suh—he can just read and write— 
nevah rode a hoss in his life. 

Hatuipay. I shall not do him the honor of asking 
an interview—if I meet him on the street I shall 
kick him into the gutter! (Again he seems weak, 
leaning on is cane. DAN stands behind him with 
his hands half extended, but fearing to assist him.) 
Open the door. I'll be going. 

Dan. Yes, suh. (He crosses and pulls one bolt— 
then stops, turns and looks undecided at HALLIDAY.) 
Marse Covington! 

Hatiipay. Well? 








14 MARSE COVINGTON 


Dan. Evah since I seen you again heah in New 
York theah’s been something on my mind—it beahs 
down on me—TI keep thinkin’ of it 

Hatiipay. I am afraid, Daniel, that I am no 
longer privileged to bear your burdens or accept 
your confidence. When my father was your cruel 
master (Smiling. ) 

Dan. Oh, no, Marse Covington! 

HaA.Liipay. When he used to beat and abuse you. 

Dan. (Laughing) What you talkin’ about, Marse 
Covington? The sun was always shinin’ down at 
Essex Co’t House. 

Haruipay. At any rate, Mr. Lincoln and his 
friends made you a free moral agent and you must 
work out your problems alone. (Starts toward 
. door.) 

Dan. This ain’t no problem—it’s just plain duty. 
Do you ’membah, when you was about so high— 
your Uncle Pitkin come up from New Ohleans? 

Hariimay. I remember Uncle Pitkin—he was. 
reconstructed—at Shiloh. 

Dan. Yes, suh. He brought you a five-dollah 
gold-piece—you laid it on a table in yo’ room 
(Hesitating.) You—you ’membah it, don’t you, 
Marse Covington? 

Hariipay. Tm not sure that I do. For a Halli- 
day to possess a sum of money was not unusual in 
those days. 

Dan. I had the run of the house—I come into 
the room and I seen the sun blinkin’ on this little 
piece of gold, and ev’y time it blink it say, “Take 
me—iake me!’ and my Sunday-school voice ’way 
down inside of me say, “Don’t do it—dom’t do it!” 
(Chuckling.) Well, Marse Covington, what chance 
has a Sunday-school voice got with a nigger? 

Hatumay. (Looking straight ahead—suspicious ) 
So—you—iook—it? 

Dan. It’s been on my mind evah since. 











MARSE COVINGTON 15 


Hatimay. If any one else had told me this—F 
wouldn’t have believed it. We always said you were 
the exception to the rule—one honest nigger. 

Dan. That’s jus’ why I felt so mean all these 
years. (He ts taking money from his pocket.) 
That’s why I want to give it back to you. (He ts 
counting out the money. Suggest three one-dollar 
bills and four halves.) 

Hartitmway. No—no—Dan! I couldn’t take it! 

Dan. Can’t give you back the gold-piece—spent 
that mo’n fifty years ago, but heah’s some cheap 
money that fliggehs up just the same. 

Harumay. (Affected—walking up close to him) 
Look here, you old reprobate! (Laying his hand 
tenderly on Dan’s sleeve.) I don’t believe a word 
of this. 

Dan. Why, Marse Covington! I’ve owned up to 
bein’ a thief and now you think I’m lyin’. I must 
be changin’ to a Northern niggeh, suah enough. 

Hartiimay. If there ever was a debt—it has been 
outlawed. 

Dan. (Holding money out) Please take it, suh! 

HaAiipay. Put it in your pocket—call it a pres- 
ent to an old family servant. 

Dan. My Sunday-school voice won’t nevah say 
“Amen” until I give back that money! Heah! I'll 
just put it in yo’ pocket. (Dawn folds the bills and 
the silver and pushes the money into HALLIDAY’S 
vest pocket. Hatutpay looks straight ahead, neither 
resisting nor assisting. Pause.) 

Haruiay. Daniel. 

Dan. Yes, suh. 

Haruiway. I have on hand several large projects 
of a gold-mining character. Should my expectations 
be realized, I hope to have an establishment of my 
own here in New York. 

Dan. Yes, suh. 

Hatiipay. Nothing showy. I leave the gilt and 


16 MARSE COVINGTON 


the purple to the parvenues—a quiet, comfortable 
home-place something like Essex Court House. 

Dan. No othah place could be like that! 

Hatuipay. When I am settled here I hope to 
take you away from this wretched place and make 
you my body-servant. 

Dan. Yes, suh. 

Hariipay. There will be other servants. 

Dan. Yes, suh. 

Haturpay. This is no place for one who has worn 
the livery of a Halliday. 

Dan. No, suh. 

Hatuipay. I'll bid you good-night, Daniel. (DAN 
is opening door.) If you wish to see me about that 
position, I’ll be standing in front of the Astor House 
any pleasant day. (DAN opens the door.) 

Dan. Yes, suh. 

Hatiipay. Good-night. 

Dan. (Closing the door) Good-night, suh. (Door 
closed—business with chains. Dan stands leaning 
against it. May try first curtain here. He looks 
out.) He’s goin’ to get somethin’ to eat. Oh, Marse 
Covington, Marse Covington! 

BANTREE. (Enters R. and stands near doorway) 
Didn’t I see Halliday in here just now? 

Dan. He got in mos’ befo’ I knew it. 

BANTREE. Well? 

Dan. I threw him out. 

BANTREE. Good! (Exits x.) 

Dan. (Sinking down, sobbing) Yes, suh, I threw 
him out! I threw him out! 


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